


Scabbard

by Starcrossedsky



Series: Bladework [2]
Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But only mostly, Political AU, and figures out mostly everyone, in which Jade Curtiss has a hell of a week, let ion say fuck, truly dirty hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 00:55:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11635563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcrossedsky/pseuds/Starcrossedsky
Summary: Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is enemy action.(Or perhaps not quite an enemy, at that.)Or: Between the assault on the Tartarus and Kaitzur, Jade has a number of rude revelations about his travelling companions and their intentions.





	Scabbard

**Author's Note:**

> I realized that I flubbed the timeline on Ion's age in To Be a Sword, so just to be clear: At this point in time he's physically 14, and chronologically just shy of two. Calendar operates with New Year's being in Daath's winter (thus, also winter for most of Malkuth, but summer for Kimlasca). This is the very end of winter in northern Rugnica (the liger eggs would have hatched with the onset of spring) and thus the very end of summer in Baticul - not that it matters much, since Baticul is practically tropical. The original Ion's birthday is in Daath's early summer - in canon terms, Ion is physically 15 sometime between Akzeriuth and the dive to the planet's core. (Don't expect this universe to follow that timeline.)
> 
> For my purposes, Auldrant does have seasons, but somewhat less axial tilt than Earth's, making them less intense.
> 
> Thank you Cygna for betaing, and everyone who put up with my yelling about writing Jade in the last few weeks.

Ion is an idea, a wild imagining, but a niggling feeling at the back of your mind that won't go away. There is something just a little bit off, a little too green in all the wrong places, a little too stiff everywhere. You are an expert at faking the expression of emotions you don't feel; Ion does it as smooth as silk, but you of all people would notice.

His smiles are like yours, and no one that young should smile that way, regardless of the potential for Ion's age being far less than it seems. If it were not for the fact that _earnest compassion_ seems to be one of the few true emotions he shows, you would think you had taken onboard another monster like yourself.

You are not quite ready to agree with Peony's secondhand description of the boy as _potentially terrifying_ , but he's certainly interesting enough to be worth keeping an eye on.

\----

Luke is more than a feeling. Luke is a solid hypothesis that you don't want to be true. Luke is a supposed victim of kidnapping who shows almost none of the signs of trauma you would expect. He is rarely hypervigilant, has no problems being touched or restrained, doesn't show any signs of distress at being detained aboard the Tartarus aside from considering the whole incident a pain in his spoiled, impatient ass. 

And anyway, people who have experienced such trauma are more likely to remember it, not _less_. The mind does not block out such things, no matter how much you might wish for them to.

Still, you have only rarely met a person more annoying, and not because of his spoiled mannerisms. It isn't that Luke can't think; it's that he's already decided _not_ to. There is nothing more obnoxious than willful ignorance, especially when it's worn as a point of pride. You think that you would not have _intentionally_ kidnapped him if Kimlasca gave him to you gift-wrapped, but since he's here, you may as well make use of him.

Any mystery Luke might hold is irrelevant, even boring, when the boy himself doesn't hold any answers for you to pick apart.

\----

Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is enemy action. In this case, enemy action takes the form of Asch the Bloody, deftly knocking his double out with a well-placed fonic arte and keeping the lid on his end of this conspiracy _incredibly_ well. He acts for all the world like a young, headstrong officer resentfully following orders from a superior.

Except he watches, constantly, and hides some subtle gesture to Tear with the angle of his body that none of the men assisting him witness. He watches you, specifically, eyes darting between you and the unconscious Luke with the rapidness of someone who has been caught in a lie and is looking for an escape route.

It's all the confirmation you need, and you let yourself be led along placidly while your mind turns over the revelation. If it is true of Luke, then you have almost no doubt that it is true of Ion as well.

The guards settle you together in a cell, a mistake on their parts but no matter. There's no point in moving before Luke wakes up, anyway. His sword arm is useful even if his mouth isn't.

Tear has taken a seat on the edge of the other bed, staring into her lap like it holds any kind of answer. You debate for a moment probing her for information, but there's hardly anything else to occupy your attention until Luke wakes up, so you take a step in her direction. "Friend of yours?"

She just barely startles, one of her hands closing into a fist. "You could say that. We've been on missions together before."

It's clear that she's trying to give you as little to work with as possible, but as it is, she's given you plenty. If Asch was willing to tolerate her for a mission, it speaks quite well of her. Tone light, you throw out another feeler. "Seeing Luke must have been quite the shock, then."

She glances at the other bed. "Do you know something, Colonel Curtiss?" There's no mistaking the dodge; she's the type to lean on formality when she's uncomfortable, you're sure.

You lift your hands from your pockets in a shrug. "Only as much as my eyes tell me. I'm afraid we'll have to ask that young, frightening God-General for any real answers." Because, of course, Luke wouldn't give them any. He had none to give, that much was obvious. 

Equally obvious was how Asch avoided being seen by him. Someone didn't want them to interact, and it seemed likely that that person wasn't Asch himself. More and more curious...

Ion must have known as well, given that he and Asch had a plan against Mohs built together. Most likely, the Fon Master and Luke had the same origin point (and you can even hazard a guess what idiot ran away with _that_ research). Asch, in turn, no doubt knows about Ion.

With the cabin lapsing into silence, you can only hope that that he and Anise managed to escape. With the number of God-Generals running amok on the ship, though, you must admit to having your doubts.

Only time - or redheads born with the name Luke - will tell.

\----

Fortunately, it does not take too terribly long. Luke is groaning towards wakefulness at about the time there's a knock on the door. The way you figure it, there's probably only one of their captors polite enough to give them warning, and sure enough, the door slides open, and then closed, around a tired-looking Asch the Bloody.

With barely a glance around the room, the first thing he says is, "Good, I was worried you'd escaped already," and that, you suppose, will set the tone for the rest of the conversation.

Tear looks as though she's going to respond, standing and giving Asch a look that might have been intimidating to someone of weaker will, but he lets it roll off with as much panache as you might have. Instead, he steps around the end of the bed and crouches at eye level with the slowly-awakening Luke. You're half-surprised that the cheagle perched on the pillow doesn't try to shoot fire at him in defense of his "master."

The scream that follows is more than suggestive of torture, and you think that may well have been the point. Certainly, when Asch turns away from the bed and the sputtering Luke, there's a look of faint, satisfied amusement on his face that you understand and can almost respect. 

Almost. You haven't decided yet if he's the same kind of monster that you are, but there's far more risk of it than there was with Ion. Another of you is too dangerous to let run unchecked in the world, and if Asch is such, you _will_ check him. With as much force as that requires, fon slot seal or no. 

For now, Luke is doing a good job of demanding attention, and you give it to him with a faint disappointment that your observations of his counterpart are interrupted. "What the hell _are_ you?" he demands from his position, jumped back as far under the bunk as possible.

The look Asch gives him in turn is full of disdain, the force of _I don't have time for this_ in it enough to strip paint. No love lost, there, not that you can blame him, if the pieces are lined up the way you think they are. "Your ticket out of here, if you keep your mouth shut and save the questions for afterwards."

That, at least, does a good job of shutting Luke up, for the moment. You face Asch fully and raise your eyebrows the smallest increment. "You seemed rather confident that we could escape on our own," you say.

"I'm sure you have some failsafe or another in place," he says, and his words are directed at _you_ , in that tone that you hear sometimes when someone knows exactly how dangerous you are. Well, you suppose you can't blame him for that. He certainly has reason to have taken an interest in the people behind fomicry. "But you would have been forced to leave without Ion, which defeats the whole _point_ of everything we've worked for."

"'Everything we've...'" Tear half repeats, almost dazed, before her eyes snap back to Asch. " _This_ is what that was all about?"

Interesting. You think you can guess now what mission it was that she accompanied Asch on, in the not too distant past. Asch's scowl increases. "And _you_ were supposed to be taking leave, Sergeant. Not crossing the Rugnica Plains with _that_ \- " He jerks a thumb at Luke over his shoulder. " - halfway across the world from where he should be."

Tear exhales, straightening her uniform at the waist to compose herself. "It was an accident."

"I'm sure," Asch replies, demeanor lightening infinitesimally as he reaches up and runs his fingers through the bangs peaked over his forehead. "I suppose I should be grateful. If he wasn't here, Legretta probably would have had Colonel Curtiss executed and his body dumped at the Kaitzur border, and there's their war right there." 

You find yourself oddly ungrateful at the pronouncement, primarily out of spite. Still, it isn't exactly wrong. The Emperor's best friend, sent on a secret mission of peace, and murdered at the border... Malkuth would have taken it as a declaration of war from Kimlasca, and Kimlasca likely wouldn't have even known of the incident.

There are some very, _very_ dirty hands at work in the Oracle Knights. "Then why did they not?" you can't help but ask. "Royal heir or no, I hardly think that Luke's witness testimony will count for much. They may as well have the both of us killed, and give both sides a reason to go to war."

And _there_ , that smirk, the momentary glance at Luke, the expression of buried pain beneath - "They can't kill him and use his corpse to start the war. He won't leave a body. He has to die in a way that no one expects there to be a body to find."

Asch says it like he expects that you already know that, and doesn't react to either Tear or his replica's questions. You can hardly even hear Tear's, not with how Luke shouts a "What the hell are you _talking_ about?!" at his considerable lung capacity.

You simply nod, and trust that he'll give them a more complete explanation later. You'd hate to be left to do it yourself. "Of course. You were saying about Ion...?"

"Taken off the ship," Asch answers. "Legretta's due to bring him back in... more like ten minutes, now, with all the shouting going on in here."

Not long at all. Time to get things moving along, then. "And Anise?" you ask, the last bit of information you need to assess your plan.

"Escaped over the side," Asch says with a shrug. "She's tenacious as hell, so I'm sure she survived without too much injury."

You nod and dismiss the mutinous look Tear is wearing and the aghast expression of Luke. The fact that the latter hasn't yet given up on trying to follow the conversation is an almost pleasant surprise. Perhaps he simply needed a bad enough shock to kill the last of his complacency. "Should I assume you to be coming along, then?"

_That_ prompts Asch into sighing, glancing at his replica the way one might a particularly unpleasant relative's obnoxious dog. "I doubt I'd be able to keep the ruse up much longer after this. Might as well throw in the towel."

"Good, then keep a watch on our flanks," you say, stepping towards the door. Unsurprisingly, it slides open easily, allowing you to put your 'failsafe' to work. 

Luke, amazingly enough, is almost stepping on your heels on the way out, no doubt eager to get away from the unsettling experience of seeing his own face outside the mirror. (And how uncanny it must be - objectively identical faces, certainly, but the expressions on them as wildly differing as night and day. Only frustration seems to be in common.) His nervous new pet is clinging to his shoulder, half-hidden under his hair and watching Asch through it. Prey animals are quite sensible at times.

Behind you, a quiet exchange from the two left in the cabin - 

"Asch..."

"Can it, Sergeant. Mission first, remember?"

"You truly are cruel, sometimes."

"I know. Can you trust me anyway?"

"Initiate emergency plan 'Corpse Hunt,'" you say into the speaking tube, not wanting to linger on the thought of her answer. Teenagers can be so sentimental at the worst of times.

The lights flicker out and the vague rattle of running engines dies. As you move through the dark, for some reason, Luke remains glued to your heels.

Well, you suppose you may as well value the experience of being the lesser of two extremely suspicious individuals while you have the chance.

\----

The path to the escape hatch isn't terribly fraught, though there's an amusing diversion in Luke's reaction to the crate of explosives. 

(You are almost disappointed that Asch catches on quickly enough to cover his ears, and Tear mimics him. One out of three is a poor average for you.)

Asch pulls quite the act to Legretta at the hatch, too, claiming that he's guarding it against your potential escape now that the rest of the ship is powered down. It's enough of a deception that Legretta lets her guard for the critical few moments you need. Everything is going quite smoothly until there's a roar from the hatch.

Typical. Best-laid plans _never_ survive contact with teenage girls.

Arietta the Wild is terribly small, but she has big, dangerous friends that are nearly as dangerous as the liger queen you faced not too long ago. Unfortunately, _you_ are not nearly as dangerous as you were not too long ago. Luke isn't particularly dangerous at all, and is swatted aside by the creature's massive paws easily. Asch is preoccupied with Legretta and nearly meets the same fate - it's quite a succinct demonstration of the difference in awareness between the two, but the blond God-General with her arms in hand forces you to raincheck the consideration.

Truthfully, if it hadn't turned out that you _also_ had reinforcements waiting in the wings, it all would have been for naught quite quickly. The arrival of the blond man is a shock to everyone, but you capitalize on it quickly, seizing Arietta for a captive, while your new ally snatches Ion out of the fray and Asch herds Legretta towards the hatch. You don't relax until the hatch closes behind them.

Asch doesn't even relax then, his eyes on the upper decks as he quite literally backs away in retreat. "Careful. If Guy could make that jump, Sync _definitely_ can."

It's a small slip, but the blond notices; in the midst of helping to pull a grateful Luke to his feet, he nearly loses his grip at the sound of his name. He looks over his shoulder at Asch and stops as though seeing him for the first time.

Curious. A member of their family household, then, perhaps - but that does leave the mystery of how he got from Baticul to Rugnica so quickly, doesn't it? Another thing to make Asch explain later. You satisfy yourself with a nod. "With any luck, he's trapped in some deeper part of the ship."

Asch snorts, and there's the faintest motion of his body towards Ion - not a _glance_ , persay, but the impression that he's being very careful not to look, even though that's where his attention lies. "Don't underestimate him," he says simply. "Sync is Van's most powerful weapon by a long shot."

"Duly noted." You look around at the rest of the assembled group, leaving Asch to continue his watch over your flanks. "Introductions later, children. We need to get moving."

They all nod. Luke doesn't even look put out about it.

\----

There is, unfortunately, only so far you can go before exhaustion, that most inevitable of foes, begins to catch up. Ion shows signs of it first, not unexpectedly. Asch, stubborn, insists on carrying the boy at least another mile or two in grim silence. You don't object, since of all of you he's likely the most used to the pace of forced march, and has the energy of youth besides.

It is a bit strange to see how utterly comfortable he is with Ion, however, a thing you might not have noticed were you not looking. Asch watches the flanks and rear, of course, but he also watches you and the newly arrived Guy as though you might yet be threats, and Tear and Luke not much less. Ion alone possesses whatever scraps of trust Asch chooses to dole out.

And it is very much mutual, if the way the Fon Master sinks into a shallow sleep with his head pillowed on Asch's shoulder is any indication.

Eventually, night threatens to fall, and you lead the group off the road in search of a decent campsite. The clearing you decide upon is unlikely to be found easily, sheltered by a ring of bushes and a canopy of trees as it is. Both Asch and Guy give it equal inspections before approving, one by settling his burden against a log and the other by taking a seat atop the far end of it.

Luke drops to the ground and sprawls out with a heavy sigh, near Guy's end of the log. The cheagle has long since fallen asleep on his shoulder, and for all that Luke appears to loathe the creature, he is careful to not wake the sleeping beast. He does not even put an effort into sitting up, instead laying on his back and nearly appearing to fall asleep right there. For a moment, you think he has, and are prepared to let the explanations wait until morning, until he suddenly says, "Hey, Guy?"

The blond makes a small, curious noise and looks away from his attempted discreet observation of Asch (not nearly discreet enough) to Luke. "What is it?"

"The stars here are really nice." It is hardly what you would have expected from him, though it would hardly do to show your surprise.

Guy, obligingly, looks up at the gap in the trees. "They really are, huh? The city lights in Baticul drown out a lot of the dimmer ones."

Asch has gone still, in the corner of the camp where he tends to Ion. Tear has settled on their far side, and seems to be listening just as closely.

Luke makes a sound like agreement, then yawns loudly. "Yeah, I guess that must be it. I didn't really think about it before."

Asch's snort is quick, disdainful, dismissive. It goes unacknowledged, but clearly not unheard by anyone in the clearing (save the sleeping Ion).

"Maybe you're growing up," Guy teases, sliding off his log to sit next to Luke. You are reminded, suddenly, that however old Luke actually is, it is no doubt much younger than he appears.

You were not wrong to call them children. Tuning the rest out, you set Asch with the first watch (figuring him the most likely to attempt to stab someone upon being unexpectedly awakened), and close your eyes. With years of practice at stilling unpleasant thoughts, you fall asleep in seconds.

\----

 

The night is punctuated by only one significant event during your watch, when Asch sits bolt upright from some nightmare and nearly startles Ion into waking as well. It's clearly routine, from the way he glances around, catches his breath, and drifts back to sleep within only a few minutes. Debatable, even, if he was fully aware, and doubtful that he'll remember it in the morning. Guy's sleep is slightly troubled, but nothing so significant. Tear sleeps easily, and Ion and Luke are likely too exhausted to be disturbed by any degree of foul dreaming.

In the morning, you wake to Asch and Ion murmuring to each other, Guy sitting watch much where you left him in the night, and the rest still asleep. Whatever discussion Asch and Ion are having seems to have ignited some spark of vehemence in the former, but you can pick out little from their hushed tones. 

Finally, with the sky more light than not and birds singing, Tear sits up and stretches, which is good enough excuse for you to wake the late riser. Luke only blinks at you for a moment before groaning loudly and sitting up as though it were the most difficult thing in the world.

"A pity," you say, because it seems like an appropriate moment. "You slept so long, I was concerned that you'd expired in the night."

"Ugh," Luke groans again, rubbing at his eyes. "'S'not even light yet..."

"It's winter here, Luke," Guy contributes gently. "The nights are longer than they are in Baticul."

"...Huh," Luke says, and you have your doubts that he'll retain that information, but he is awake enough to stand and stumble off to the bushes, which is probably good enough.

Asch, still seated close enough to Ion that they're nearly leaning on each other, is wearing a strange expression that makes him look something close to his age. "You baby him," he says to Guy, without venom. It sounds confused, perhaps painfully so.

Guy is, if anything, startled by being so addressed, though once he gets his expression under control, he doesn't reply. Silence hangs until Tear and Luke make their way back from whatever discreet places they've taken care of morning business. At that point, Asch sighs and gestures them to sit. You opt to remain standing, partially for authority and partially to be contrary.

"Might as well get this over with," he mutters, brushing his fingers through his bangs. It's helpful, when someone has such a consistent tell for stress. "Where to start..."

"The beginning's usually a good place," Guy _helpfully_ suggests, and it's the kind of suggestion that carries far more weight than that. In Asch's mouth it would be an order, in Luke's a haughty demand. 

Asch doesn't take the bait. His hand drifts down from his hair to rest in his lap as he leans back, tilting his head upward against the log behind him. "As I'm sure all of you know by now," he begins, "seven years ago, a boy named Luke fon Fabre was kidnapped from his home in Baticul."

Here a pause, just long enough; he's a credit to dramatic delivery.

"He never made it back."

Luke starts to say something, some protest no doubt against this (to you) obvious truth, but Ion looks at him and puts his finger to his lips and, by some miracle, the little gesture from the Fon Master actually shuts him up.

"Instead, the person who kidnapped him created a replica through a scientific process called fomicry," Asch continues. The tone of his voice is dead, and he closes his eyes. "A perfect double formed of Seventh Fonons, with no memories, to be delivered back to the family. And the real Luke was taken off to Daath, to become somebody's project, somebody's tool, somebody's weapon."

"A touch dramatic," you say, as much to break the flow of the story as anything, "but you've made your point."

Luke needs time to process it. _Guy_ needs time to process it, clearly, as he looks back and forth between the two with a slowly dawning realization of horror. And Asch needs an interruption, to keep him from sinking into whatever unpleasant place the memories put him in. You know what fomicry on living things does. To put a ten year old child through that... You do not have many morals, but still find yourself repulsed.

There wasn't even a guarantee of it working, much less of it not having killed the original after they were separated. Asch is lucky to be alive, much less as vital as he is, instead of in a condition like Ion's, permanently weakened by some side effect of the process.

(...Is Ion the result of _multiple_ , staggered attempts at fomicry? It would explain his weakness, his imperfection. And, perhaps, the way Asch so avoided looking at him when he described Sync as a weapon. Someone certainly has a lot to answer for.)

"...Who?" Luke finally asks, holding his head. Guy and, surprisingly, Tear, both look away from him in the same breath Asch opens his eyes again.

They are clear, and hateful, trapped not in painful memories but a much-loathed present. "You _know_ who. Who brought you back?"

Luke inhales, sharply. "You're lying. You have to be. Master Van wouldn't - "

"You have a scar on your left hip," Asch begins, and there is an anger there, quiet and low, "from when I tried to use live steel at practice and lost my grip. Mother is allergic to Sylvanian tree nuts and develops a rash if she so much as touches them. Pere makes a spicy seafood chowder for Guy whenever he's sick, and you can bribe Ramdas to look the other way on study time if you give him one of the custards from the bakery on Applewood Street in the lower levels." He pauses for breath. "Natalia won't wear pink because she thinks it makes her skin look yellow, and - "

"Okay, okay, fine!" Luke interrupts, demonstrating his usual lack of volume control. You must admit, it's a fairly impressive list of personal details, even if the delivery feels practiced.

(Likely, it is. Seven years ought to have dulled most of those childhood memories. It's all too easy, though, to picture a young Asch reciting the litany to himself at night, in some dark corner of Daath's barracks.)

And then, almost resentfully - "You mean you could skip study periods by giving Ramdas _dessert_?" Luke mutters, every inch a child griping about the unfairness of the world.

Guy laughs, and the tension is, for the moment, broken beyond repair. It's so effective that you wonder if it's faked, good cheer summoned on command. "Man, I always thought you ate those yourself!"

It is this easy acceptance that seems to break something inside of Asch - he stares at Guy in shock, looking _lost_ until Ion gently puts a hand on his arm. Asch glances down at the anchoring touch, with a faint smile, and then says, "It's not _my_ fault if you never asked."

"I can't believe you were bribing _me_ to buy you sweets that you used to bribe your way out of _tutoring_ ," Guy mutters. 

"A born politician," Ion agrees gravely, and his tone is serious but there's a teasing sparkle in his eyes. Asch scowls and his elbows twitches, as though he's considering shoving Ion and thinks better of it. 

Tear clears her throat. "But, why? What could my brother possibly want you for? There are..." She takes a breath, steadying herself. "There are plenty of orphan children that would be easier to shape than a kidnapped one."

The boys all go serious again at that, and eventually Ion is the one to speak. "It's due to a passage of the Closed Score that has to do with his birth."

Luke looks confused, but you can tell that Guy is, very suddenly, paying full attention. You must admit that it is an unexpected direction - but then, if Van had wanted control of Asch for the sake of controlling the throne the boy would inherit, there was no reason to take him out of Baticul. Of course there is another reason.

In the half-sung tone of Score reading, Asch recites, "ND 2000. _In Kimlasca shall be born one who inherits the power of Lorelei._ There's a number of other traits listed - down to the name - but that is the important one."

"And what," you ask, "is this all-important power of Lorelei?"

Ion glances at Asch. "Even I don't know that. I've read the passage of the Score in question, but..."

Asch considers, and then sighs. "Colonel Curtiss, if you would step back." You do, biting down on the urge to tell him to call you by name instead of title. "Further."

_Well_. This is certainly going to be interesting, then. You back away almost completely across the clearing, and Asch stands to follow you a few feet, so that there's a large open space in front of him. He is taking deep breaths, steadying himself. "That stick by your foot? Toss it into the middle."

You humor him with a flourish. It's simply a piece of wood, after all.

At first, you think it's the light of the dawn breaking over him that causes the glow, a lightening gold from crown to heel. But the vegetation around is too thick for that, and the color - 

Just as you are wondering exactly _how_ many Seventh Fonons are gathering around Asch, the stick on the ground between you explodes.

No, that's incorrect. The stick _annihilates_ , along with a small, bowl-shaped chunk of earth that the untrained eye might mistake for a crater. The cheagle near Luke squeaks loudly and darts behind the log, peering out with ears trembling. You suck in a breath. "Hyperresonance," you say. "Solo, controlled hyperresonance."

(For the first time in a long time, you are surprised, and aware that it shows. For the first time in far longer, you feel the faintest hints of fear.)

Guy is staring at the spot as well. Tear looks between you and Asch, who has folded his arms against his chest as though he hasn't just broken what was understood to be a law of physics in the pre-dawn light of the Rugnican wilderness. "Could one of you _please_ explain the implication to the rest of us?" she asks.

"Yeah, it looks like a plain old arte to me..." Luke says, staring still at the hole as well, before looking at his original. Asch says nothing, instead taking his seat beside Ion again.

You reach up to adjust your glasses with a sigh, coming back across the clearing and stepping directly over the hole. "In the short version - the potential to simply _unmake_ anything by ripping it apart at the atomic level. Walls, armor... People. As though they were never there."

"It's handy to eliminate corpses," Asch says with a shrug, and _damnation,_ you hadn't even thought through the implications of such an ability in the hands of someone trained as an assassin. Discussion of hyperresonance as a weapon of war has always been about the sheer destructive potential, but a well-trained assassin doesn't need all that much firepower in the first place.

"I suppose you never have to worry about finding a lockpick," you say. Humor desensitizes people to horror, and from the way Luke is now staring at his hands, at least one person needs it.

(It keeps you from thinking about how easy it would have been, if Asch had intended to _kill_ Peony instead of cornering him for clandestine peace talks. Though you suppose at least in that case, he would probably have done you the favor of leaving something to bury.)

"Can I...?" Luke begins, and then falters. "Can I do that?"

For a moment, silence hangs. Another implication you don't like. Which is worse, that power in the hands of an assassin, or the hands of this easily-manipulated child?

And then Asch says, "Probably." _Wonderful._

"What makes you think so?" Guy asks, sliding forward to sit a bit closer to Luke. Luke only barely reacts, still staring at his hands. You assess that he's probably going fully into shock, now, given his reaction to having killed a person for the first time not so long ago. As you watch, the little blue cheagle, still tired and thankfully quiet this morning, crawls into the boy's lap.

"Because he still needs to take my place," Asch says, and again the tone and cadence of his voice changes. " _The youth will turn power to calamity and be as a weapon of Kimlasca, destroying himself and the city._ That's _this_ year's Closed Score, and it leads straight into the war."

"The Closed Score?" Tear says, and her tone is slightly aghast. "Asch, you can't just - "

"I'm not a follower of the Order," Asch snaps. "I don't _care_ about their rules."

Tear goes silent again. You watch Ion, carefully, but there's no indication as to whether this is what he and Asch were so quietly arguing this morning or not. 

"What city?" you ask, because someone must.

"The term used in the Score is 'the miner's city,'" Ion answers, looking down. "Most probably Akzeriuth."

You nod, turning it over. Lowest relative loss of life, already on the border, and of course, the only major mining town that Malkuth has, now that Keterburg has become more of a resort as the mountains around it grow empty of ore. Still... "As dangerous as hyperresonance is, it's hard to believe that it could be used on a settlement of that size. A human body can only control so many fonons, even in that state, and Luke is hardly a fonist."

Asch glances at the boy in question, who is still rather out of it, and then at _Guy_ of all people, which is strange and telling of something even if you don't yet know what. "He doesn't have to be. There's a Sephiroth under Akzeriuth."

And _this_ must be what the argument was about, because not only does Ion's expression shift slightly towards displeasure, but Tear's hardens as well. The Order keeps the locations of the Sephiroth trees a closely guarded secret, as dear to them as the Closed Score. If Akzeriuth is on one... No wonder that the Order has always cultivated the faith strongly there, enough that they rely on Scorers to path their mines. It can only be for the sake of ensuring that some unfortunate miner doesn't simply bust in on the Sephiroth itself.

And while you are thinking this, Guy has shifted in posture, folding one hand over his lap, and he says simply, "Like Hod."

And then all of the pieces fall painfully into place, even the casual comment of killing Luke somewhere where no one would expect to find a corpse. The Order still keeps a great deal about the Hod disaster secret, but it doesn't take much to know that the majority of the corpses that sank with it into the sea were never found.

You say, "And Kimlasca knows of this."

"Uncle, at the very least," Asch agrees. "Most probably my father as well." 

You can guess the outcome of the war, then. The Order is only ever on the winning side, and any fool with a knowledge of history can see their hand at work. "They will hardly remember you as a patriot for this," you tell Asch, folding your hands behind your back. "If you like, I can contact His Majesty about sponsoring you for citizenship."

A blink. Good, you're not completely incapable of putting him off-balance. It was starting to grow concerning, considering how many times the boy has disrupted your world view in the last hour alone. Asch reaches up and touches his hair as though puzzled at it. "I'll consider it," he says, tone neutral enough that he might be taking you seriously.

Well, you suppose you might have been serious, at that. It may have come from his knowledge of the Order, but revealing so much about Kimlasca's plans is _decidedly_ treasonous for a member of the royal family, especially given that you are a member of the enemy military in a position to do something about it. 

"Is the letter a farce, then?" Tear asks. "If King Ingobert is going to follow the Score to war..."

Wondering that yourself, you watch as Asch and Ion look at each other - the architects of that particular conspiracy. Ion looks back at the group, and says, "I wanted to try. To see if a peaceful solution could be reached, instead of..."

"Instead of drastic measures," you complete the thought for him, so as to avoid details on exactly what those drastic measures would be. Killing Luke before he could go to Akzeriuth in the first place is not exactly off the table. Nor, for that matter, is assassinating King Ingobert and hoping that the Princess Natalia is a bit less in Mohs' pocket.

Though - no, the girl is only nineteen this year, and Kimlascans inherit at twenty. Suzanne fon Fabre would serve as a steward for the throne, or, more likely given her health, her husband would. Removing Ingobert would require the removal of Duke Fabre as well.

You can appreciate Ion not wanting to put Asch in that position, at least. Patricide at seventeen is a situation no one should have to endure, no matter how many lives hang in the balance. Or what a monster their father might be.

With a sigh, you shrug your arms before dropping them into your pockets again. "I suppose I can't blame you for wanting to put in one good faith effort." Though from Asch's expression, you think that the only good faith in this scenario is coming from the Fon Master. How long, you wonder, has he borne the knowledge that his family intended to send him to his death? For the entire seven years since Luke was created?

"Thank you, Jade," Ion says.

"But I still intend to inform His Majesty of the situation," you say. "It's light enough out for travel. I want to make Saint Binah by nightfall; the garrison there should be secure enough for sending such a message - " And the walk there will give you time to draft one. " - not to mention that it's our rendezvous point with Anise."

At _that_ , Ion and Asch look at each other again, and you have to wonder just how _many_ secrets those two are keeping between them. You doubt whatever they're going to say is going to be an admission of Ion as a replica.

Sure enough - "She's a spy for Mohs, you should know," Asch says. You can't help it; you sigh and adjust your glasses, because of course she is. "We keep her around so we know where the leak is."

"How many conspiracies are going _on_ in the Order?" Guy mutters, before dropping off his seat to start gently pulling Luke from his stupor.

"Always at least one more than you think," you advise him, turning away. A good reminder to yourself, as well. You have to wonder if Ion told Anise to run for it to make this part of the job easier, just to ensure that all this plotting didn't find its way to the wrong ears. Knowing where the leak is, indeed.

At least it doesn't take much more prompting to get them moving. Luke's uncharacteristic silence works quite well for a stealth party, even if Guy has to all but lead him by the hand. Tear, too, walks in silence, but at least she makes a satisfying contribution to breakfast-related foraging.

Satisfying for you, at any rate. You always appreciate when someone else does the tedious parts of life for you. And when Luke grumbles about still being hungry afterwards, it indicates that he hasn't been broken beyond repair, either.

\----

You still have questions, of course. Most of the prominent ones have to do with Guy Cecil, who, childhood friend-slash-servant or not, has no reason to be as casually trusted by Asch as he is, at least not in this matter. It is, after all, Duke Fabre paying his bills.

Except Asch takes it as certain fact that Guy will not betray this conspiracy; if the redhead watches anyone, it's Tear. Not that Guy doesn't have his _attention_ , certainly not, but those looks are almost longing, especially when the blond puts his best efforts into cheering Luke up and helping to explain some of the morning's more difficult revelations in simpler terms. You would expect Asch to be annoyed with such mother-henning, but instead he seems almost envious.

Some of it is easy enough to patch in, if you assume Asch to have a fairly normal psychological profile for his experiences. No doubt comfort and slower explanations such as Luke is getting were a luxury he was denied. And it is very likely that he has some degree of rose-tint to his view of what must have gone on at home while he wasn't there.

But still the questions itch, the unsolved mystery remains. You replay the conversations over - the passing mention of a spicy seafood chowder, _Like Hod._ A light and quick one-handed sword style, without the use of a shield - none of them use shields, actually, though it's unsurprising that Asch's bladework is a more refined and proper version of Luke's in most respects, given their common teacher.

Hod had several swordsmanship styles that fit that profile, from the days when they would have to hold to ships' ropes with the free hand to defend from pirates. They are uncommon elsewhere, though not unheard of in Chesedonia. You doubt Guy, darker than the redheads but paler than Anise, is from the deserts, though.

The hair color is wrong, for most of Hod, but - No. The last Count Gardios married a blond Kimlascan noblewoman of the _Cecille_ family. Atrocious. Whoever named Asch may not have had better taste, but they at least had better _sense_.

It does at least explain why Asch is confident in him to keep secrets, and perhaps how he was able to arrive from Baticul so quickly. The few Hod survivors you've met, those who had fled the war prior to the disaster entirely, are a surprisingly crafty, tight-knit bunch. For now, it is enough to satisfy your curiosity.

Luke begins to perk up over the course of the day, with the constant support of his servant and, perhaps unsurprisingly, Ion. The latter bridges the gap between original and replica much more easily than the former, trotting between them as his stamina allows and occasionally throwing out teasing barbs - mostly, it seems, on Asch's habit of bringing him bad news, which you can certainly sympathize with at the moment.

The way Asch interacts with Ion is fascinating to watch, especially in contrast with Anise. You think that the two philosophies would not mesh well, and almost hope that she has moved on to Kaitzur by the time you arrive, if only to spare yourself the headache of the inevitable clash. Unlike Anise, Asch does not nag Ion to take care of himself and he does not treat the Fon Master as fragile; he has a realistic assessment of Ion's abilities, and does not particularly seem to resent the segment of the afternoon where he has to carry the boy in order to maintain their pace.

In fact, the only one who gets any word of reprimand from Asch regarding their pace is _Tear_ , who suffers a brief lecture for her poor choice in shoes. She, too, seems to have an interest in getting Luke back to functional, though in comparison to Guy and Ion, she takes a distinctly no-nonsense tack to it.

Asch and his replica do not speak at all, and appear to be avoiding each other as much as is possible in a travelling group of six people, one of whom spends half the day being carried. 

St. Binah is within view by nightfall, which keeps anyone's spirits from flagging too badly, though Asch is more prone to shushing the group and listening in paranoid silence as they approach the city. He watches the skies, mostly, which is explained with a simple, "Arietta has griffons. Dist has a flying chair."

The latter is a mental image that gives you an entertained moment, if nothing else. You almost hope that he appears, if only to have the chance to _see_ it. Ah, well, such things are usually disappointing in reality, anyway.

The gates of the city itself pose another problem, in the form of a pair of Oracle Knights posted at the gates, no doubt from your very own stolen ship. You sigh, annoyance peaking as you consider the best way to get around them. With Ion and Luke, climbing over the wall is likely not an option...

Asch, settling Ion back on his feet, says, "Tear, same as Grand Chokmah?"

She looks at the gates, then nods. "Someone else will have to get the other one," she says. "I'm exhausted already."

Asch merely nods. "Guy, with me. Jade, watch these two. Red signal, go for the gate."

"I do appreciate babysitting duty," you quip, but Asch is already moving out, his half of the group following. You herd Luke and Ion into a patch of greenery with a good view of the entrance and prepare to wait.

Guy's ability at stealth is at least passable, especially given the color of his clothes. Asch and Tear, with better training and darker uniforms, practically vanish into the settling night, save the near offensive shade of Asch's hair. The three gather briefly at a closer position to the guards, where no doubt Asch is explaining what is actually to be done to Guy, and then separate.

After a moment, you hear a quiet song - Tear's voice. Beside you, Luke mutters, "Oh, she's using that again."

Exactly what that is is answered swiftly when the two Oracle Knights start to slump, and Asch and Guy bolt into action to lower them quietly to the ground. Ah, so that's how they gained entry to much of the Royal Palace. Quite efficient, and no corpses left behind - only drowsy guards who missed exactly what they were supposed to be watching for.

Asch's signal is only a formality, as you've already gotten up by that point. Luke and Ion follow you to the burst of red fonons, Ion's breathing quiet but labored. Fortunately, it is a sprint of only a hundred yards or so.

The actual city guard, Malkuth soldiers in familiar teal, seem to be faintly baffled behind their helmets as your party seemingly materializes from mid-air. Fortunately, _you_ are still in uniform, and one of them has enough of his wits about him to salute you. "Colonel Curtiss."

You nod at him absently. "It would be appreciated if our 'friends' down the road did not know we passed through."

"Of course, sir."

And then, amazingly, you are within the walls of St. Binah without a single drop of blood shed. Babysitting duty or no, you think you could come to appreciate the ease of it. Being surrounded by largely competent people (Luke aside) continues to be a pleasant experience.

Of course, that does not mean that they are without their issues. The useful ones never are.

It comes when Tear attempts to give Guy what was intended as a friendly touch on the arm, a bit of camaraderie and congratulations for a job well done. Except he does more than flinch away at her touch - he positively _quivers_ , and then bolts away to the far side of the street. Tear, wide-eyed and concerned, steps after him, but Asch steps between them and shakes his head. As you approach, you can hear his words - "Let him be, Tear."

Interesting. Deciding that probing Guy for a direct explanation would be counterproductive, you turn to Luke instead. He takes a moment to realize that you're looking at him for an explanation, which you suppose you can allow. It's unlikely anyone ever asks him much of anything.

"Guy doesn't deal well with women," he says simply. "He's okay if they don't like, touch him or anything, but..."

You nod. "And the reaction hasn't changed with time? Asch seemed almost to expect it."

"He's been like that for as long as I can remember," Luke says. "So yeah, I guess so."

"Hm." Probably some trauma from the war, then - he would have been only a small child. What an unusual trigger, though - one that you can easily imagine only became worse with time. Anticipating the panic becomes just as bad as the panic itself, if not handled properly, and it seems this matter hasn't been. Luke certainly doesn't seem to treat it with any gravity. You would have to see the rest of the household to be certain, however; Asch, at this juncture, no doubt with his own such traumas, doesn't count.

The way that Asch does stay between Guy and Tear, an understated human barrier, probably helps the blond to calm down quickly, however, or at least have the appearance of calm by the time you all gather up again.

Asch folds his arms and looks at you. "I don't suppose you know of a more discreet inn in this city? Our pursuers are _probably_ smart enough to check the one that's right inside the gate."

You nod. Knowledge of such places always pays off in the end, even if they are a bit shady. "Of course. Though it's hardly up to royal standards, I'm afraid. Some of us may even have to share beds."

You hardly expect Asch to object, much less rise to the subtle taunt, but it does surprise you when Luke says, "As long as it _is_ a bed, I don't care."

"Clearly, you've never experienced bed bugs," Tear mutters, which earns her a horrified look from Luke that makes you wish you'd thought to say it first. You chuckle quietly instead. 

With that, you lead the way deeper into the small city, not bothering to look and see if they're following.

\----

Asch, with the only wallet among you anything resembling fat, pays for two rooms with double beds and sorts out a sleeping arrangement that no one seems to object to too much. Admittedly, you could go without sharing a room with Luke, but as the arrangement gives you a full bed to yourself and little chance of being awakened by Asch encountering some more severe night terror, you'll take it.

You leave them to get settled in and take your leave to the military outpost, to see if Anise has passed through and to send off a carrier pigeon to Grand Chokmah. The letter Anise has left behind is not technically addressed to you, but you read it anyway with some amusement. She is going to be entirely disappointed that Luke is likely in no position to genuinely inherit anything. Kimlascan inheritance law is quite cruel to bastard children, given the number of them it's produced, and that's likely his _best_ prospects. If Asch's parents don't give him at least that much, then he has a spoiled upbringing and no skills to show for it save perhaps mercenary work, and weak-stomached as he is now, you cannot imagine that he would last long at it.

As consequences of fomicry go, a spoiled, orphan noble thrown onto the streets of Baticul was not one you had ever contemplated. And even that gives him a better chance than a trial for impersonation of a member of the royal family, a certain death sentence. It is a crime he's been guilty of since birth, after all, though through no fault of his own.

You let such thoughts fly off with the pigeon towards the northern horizon, and return to the inn as the hour approaches midnight. When you arrive, Ion is in your room, sitting on the bed chatting with Luke, and Guy, who _ought_ to be in there, is nowhere to be seen. The cheagle is curled up between the pillows, already asleep. As you come in, Luke is on the tail end of saying, "But I don't know what he _wants_ from me."

"I doubt Asch knows that either," Ion says, before looking up in your direction. "Welcome back, Jade. Asch took Guy off to talk somewhere, so I thought I would give Tear a bit of privacy for a while."

You nod. It makes sense to not let Luke be on his own, either. It seems he's already wallowing in his thoughts enough. "Don't stop for my sake," you say. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"Right. Quiet as a mouse," Luke mutters, stretching his shoulders as he turns back to Ion. "You don't have to lie to me, Ion. It's pretty clear he hates me."

Ion shakes his head. "He hates Van. You... I think he used to hate you. But you weren't what he expected, so he doesn't know what to do with you. He doesn't like to be unsure of things."

"You really think so?"

"He was my first friend," Ion says solemnly. "He hates making mistakes, so he always checks things really thoroughly if he can. But once he's decided on something, he doesn't hesitate at all. It's very different from the way you do things, and I don't think he expected that."

"What, he thought we'd be exactly alike?" Luke asks.

"Wouldn't you?" you cut in, before going back to preparing for bed. "The two of you _were_ raised in the same place, by the same people. It's not so unreasonable."

Luke actually seems to _think_ about that. "I guess. But I just always heard, 'you could do this before you lost your memory,' and 'you used to be like this,' stuff like that. Always comparing me to him."

"Asch doesn't know that," Ion says gently. "The only person who ever told him anything about Baticul was Van."

"Hardly a reliable source," you agree. A look of pain flashes across Luke's face. You frown. You suppose it's normal, that Luke hasn't accepted the truth about his creator so easily. For once, you allow your voice to grow serious. "Luke."

"What?" he snaps back, sounding like you've accused him of something.

You hold your hands up in a placating gesture, uniform jacket hanging half-open down your front. "There's no need to be so defensive. However, as it concerns you, you should know - performing fomicry on living creatures, _especially_ humans, is highly illegal." You pause for effect, and to allow him the chance to sink that into his thoughts. "Primarily, as a matter of human rights. It is considered torture, and has a high chance of complications afterwards."

Luke flinches away, looking everywhere but at you. "Asch was tortured? But..."

"Van tortured him," you correct. "Do not ever forget that, because it is an act that cannot be taken back."

Luke closes his eyes, running his fingers through his messy hair - save for the handedness, it could be a perfect mimic of Asch's tell. Perhaps some things _are_ wired in.

(You may not like how this situation came to be, but that doesn't mean that you do not intend to satisfy your curiosity as to exactly how alike the two are. Seven years is _far_ longer than any of your replicas lived.)

"And Asch thinks about it every time he looks at me," he says, in a rare moment of perceptiveness. You might not have gone that far, but you won't correct it, as it's likely closer to the truth than Asch would prefer to let on.

(When you think of it that way, it's a wonder he can interact with his replica at all, even in the stilted, please-get-it-over-with way that he has so far.)

"I know he's not an easy person to get along with," Ion says, his usual smile back in place. "But try to be patient with him. It might not seem like it, but he is trying to be patient with you."

Luke frowns, and doesn't answer. You turn away, stripping off your gloves and laying them across the bedside table, and by the time you're done the door has opened again.

"We're back," Guy says as he comes in. He sounds quite a bit more tired than he was when you left, and a glance at Asch, hovering in the doorway, shows the same is true of him. Well. Either they discussed their differences like adults, or they gave each other quite a beating. As long as they don't disrupt your sleep, you suppose it doesn't matter. 

Asch, you notice, has a pillow tucked under his arm. Well, if it's that important to him to have an extra, you suppose it is his coin.

Ion hops off the end of Luke's bed, giving Guy a place to sit, and waves lightly as he heads to the door. "Goodnight," he says.

"'Night," Luke replies, stretching out one more time before laying out flat. You don't envy Guy having to share space with the group's sprawler.

"Sweet dreams," you say, only a little dipped in sarcasm, and the door closes.

\----

Morning comes quietly - you are the first awake in your room, because even if Guy's role as servant has him up at sunrise, Baticul's sunrise is somewhat _later_. For once, you allow yourself the luxury of being a layabout for a time, and only rise and dress when you hear movement in the next room. 

By the time you come down to the small common room for coffee, Asch and Ion have commandeered a table for themselves in the corner. They are mostly dressed, though Ion has left his headpiece on the table and Asch's thick tabard is nowhere in sight. Without it, he seems smaller and far more his age, especially as he dollops far too much honey into his morning tea.

You take the time to acquire a cup of coffee - strong, only a tiny dip of cream, and no sugar - before taking the empty seat across from the pair. Of the two seats open at the table, it gives you the best view of their reactions, even if normally the seat more against the wall would be to your preference. 

(No doubt similar feelings about the insecurity of an open back were on Asch's mind when he wedged himself up in the corner. At least he'll _probably_ give you warning of any assassins that you don't hear first.)

"Good morning, you two," you say, because good manners require it. "I was wondering if I might ask a question."

"Sure," Ion says. Asch says nothing, but scowls into his tea.

(If any single thing were to be your pick to prove his loyalty to Ion, you think, it would be the degree to which he scowls far less in the Fon Master's company.)

You smile, and you can tell that they've both picked up on the fact that it's your dangerous smile, from the way Ion's expression goes a little blanker and Asch sets his cup down with a distinct _clink_. "I'm afraid my memory's slipping in my old age," you say. "Remind me again how old you are, Ion? You've accomplished a great deal in so few years."

They are both quick, of that you had no doubt, and it is no surprise that you need not say anything more to make Asch's eyes narrow. It is no secret that, as Fon Masters go, Ion has been fairly hands-off, and has no true great accomplishments.

Save, of course, for managing to keep _nearly_ everyone fooled as to his true age. That is truly a great work of deception, even if those with the right keys of knowledge can unlock it fairly swiftly.

Ion's smile returns, but it is shaky, and his words are directed at Asch. "You were right to be worried."

"Of course I was," Asch says, rolling his eyes. "It was risky enough without _Luke_ to put the idea in his head - "

"I did suspect prior to that," you admit, a rare nugget of honesty to help earn the trust of these most accomplished of liars. "But I dismissed it as a mere fancy."

Ion exhales slowly, and reaches for the tea kettle. "To answer your question, I'm not quite two years old," he says, before pouring himself another steaming cup.

You allow your eyebrows to climb. "I admit, I did not expect you to be _that_ young," you say. A drink of your coffee allows you to watch them, while hiding a great deal of your own expression. "My estimate was three or four."

Ion shakes his head slightly. "I'm afraid not. Most of my skills are programmed, not learned, for the purpose of making me as able to pass for my original as possible."

You nod. "Usually programmed replicas do not possess much in the way of emotional capacity or awareness, however."

There's a faint uptick in Ion's smile that makes it more genuine, something miniscule enough that it almost passes without notice. "Thank you. I believe I can take that as a compliment, given the circumstances."

"I don't know," Asch quips, "It does come from the Necromancer." He's lifted his teacup again, but his eyes are steady on you. Unlike Ion's, which sometimes seem lacking of the more subtle expressions, his green seems almost poetically alight with focus. "He's not exactly the best judge for emotional capacity."

You accept the comment with a shrug. "It's quite true, I'm afraid. I do not have a particularly wide array of emotional responses myself." The steam rising from your coffee forces you to set the cup down and swipe the fog off your glasses with a napkin. It would not do to miss anything, especially for such an inane reason.

Ion simply nods. "I understand. Truth be told, much of mine is the result of the programming... I have Asch to thank for giving me any experience with strong emotion before very recently, I think."

Asch coughs slightly into his tea. "I doubt I deserve that much credit."

"I don't know, you certainly express enough emotion to be a passable first model," you say, with some amusement. Replacing your glasses, you turn your gaze back to Ion. "A further question, if I might - were you the _first_ replica of Ion to be created?"

Ion shakes his head. "The seventh. I don't know if there were any more after me, but I had the best match for my original in terms of ability with the Seventh Fonon. The original Ion was Scored to die within the year, and there was no replacement, so Van and Mohs turned to fomicry."

You take up your cup again, inhaling the steam before sipping. "He may well have brought his own death about by turning to fomicry. The process is hard on the original, as I'm sure you already know." Asch simply nods. "Your own physical weakness may well be the result of it, as well. Data taken from an already-weakened original will maintain those weaknesses and flaws."

Ion is silent for a moment, then says, "That makes sense," almost tonelessly. You wonder if that is a tell for when he is experiencing an emotion he has no experience with. It seems likely; something that falls into a gap in the programming, resulting in a blank state.

"Sync must have been one of the earlier ones, then," Asch says. "No physical weakness, but he's a crap Seventh Fonist."

Ion nods. "Probably fifth or sixth. The much earlier ones tended towards mental flaws, because the programming wasn't as refined."

Mental flaws. A tactful way to put it; you know that improperly programmed replicas wind up almost catatonic. Most likely, an extreme version of the hole in their self-determination and executive function that prevents them from having any _drive_ to accomplish tasks, even when ordered, but without seeing inside the mind of one (an experience you will happily do without), it's impossible to be sure.

(Ironically, a lesser version of the trait would have been _desirable_ in Ion's replacement, to keep the puppet Fon Master complacent and easy to handle. You probably have Asch to thank for awakening the concept of willpower within Ion.)

"Aside from Sync, do any of the other replicas still exist?" you ask.

"Not as far as I know," Ion says. His voice is still toneless. You wonder what new emotion he's discovered. "They were disposed of." ...Perhaps, grief.

Never an easy discovery, that one. You rather think you could have done without it.

"Thank Lorelei," Asch mutters, in a rare moment of piety. "I don't think I could deal with three of you."

"I'd daresay it goes both ways," you tease, enjoying both how it makes Asch puff up and attempt to look at you sternly in disapproval, and the way it cues Ion's smile back into place. This one has all the little never-taught signs of being genuine, to boot.

Unfortunately for the questions you still have, a shriek from the stairs - too deep of voice to be a woman's - announces the end of your private conspiracy time. Asch sighs and slams the last of his tea back like _he's_ the experienced shot-drinker at the table. "I'd better go rescue him," he says, settling the cup down and wiggling past the open seat for the stairs.

Ion turns to you. "Jade, I'll have to ask that you don't - "

"Your secret is safe with me," you say, touching a hand over your heart as though it were some kind of formal vow. "I won't even tell His Majesty." 

Though the idea of it does entertain you. Peony certainly wouldn't question Asch's assessment of the boy after that. It is only right and proper to be scared of a two-year-old who can be such a competent player in the political arena, even with a more experienced ally at his back. You are the oddity here, for finding it more intriguing than anything else. The old academic in you wishes you could draft a case study or three.

"Thank you," Ion says. 

You have a moment longer to enjoy your coffee interruption-free before Asch returns to the table, gently leading a nearly-hyperventilating Guy into the empty seat. The blond drops into it half-bonelessly, only nodding when Asch asks if he still takes his tea black.

"Thanks," he says quietly, when Asch passes him the cup. It's a noticeable difference from their behaviour towards each other the day before; there is something more relaxed there now.

"Don't worry about it," Asch says, pouring himself another cup and heaping honey into this one as well.

"I imagine Tear's up by now," Ion says. "Should we go wake Luke and be on our way?"

"I doubt Sync or Legretta will give up their watch on the city that quickly," Asch says. "And I don't like the idea of trying to sneak him out half asleep."

"We may as well let him enjoy the bed for now," you agree, because Asch's assessment is hardly incorrect. Luke simply doesn't have the finesse for any kind of subtle mission.

"I suppose Anise will have to wait for us at Kaitzur, then," Ion says. "She's not likely to be able to cross the border on her own.

"Wait, Kaitzur?" Guy asks, sitting upright and going alert. "Crap."

"What?" Asch says, only a little bit of a demand.

"Van and I split up to look for Luke when he vanished," Guy says. "Since we didn't know where he was going to wind up. Kaitzur was supposed to be our meeting point."

Asch goes pale instantly - and you had thought him pale _before_ , compared to Luke, but now he could nearly match you or Ion for white. He barely manages to set his tea down without dropping it, rattling the ceramics of cup and saucer together.

"I assume he will have already been informed of your little defection," you say, putting your face in your own cup. The steam no longer threatens to fog your glasses. "If not now, then certainly by the time we get there. The Tartarus will outpace us easily."

Asch just nods, still unable to speak.

"Fuck," Ion says quietly. You don't even have the heart to ask where he learned the word at such an age.

\----

It gives an uncannily similar mood to the morning, with Asch being the one who needs Ion and Guy to pull him from the prison of his mind. Fortunately, he has clearly more experience with panic and shock than Luke, as it only takes him an hour to pull himself together, rather than half the day.

"Right," he says very suddenly, well after Tear has come down, gotten herself some tea, and had the bad news delivered. "Brainstorming."

With that, he and Ion disappear upstairs again, to no doubt put their heads together and concoct the most solid set of lies they can manage. Normally you would offer your assistance, but as you have yet to even meet Van Grants in person, it is a task perhaps best left to the experts.

"If they can manage it, it'll be a miracle," Guy says, returning from carrying the cups and tea kettle back to the kitchens.

"The last few Fon Masters have been decidedly lacking in miracles," you say thoughtfully. "Perhaps Ion can reverse the trend."

With nothing better to do, you set Guy to rousing Luke and yourself to gathering provisions for what is likely to be a tense journey, if not a difficult one. Mindful of Asch's not-inaccurate assessment of the day before, you set Tear to the task of acquiring herself some better shoes.

It is fortunate that you have so many old friends in the city. You are able to get most of what you need from the garrison without arousing too much suspicion. Far less provisions than you would have had aboard the Tartarus, to be sure, but you have far fewer people to worry about and moving on foot gives better foraging opportunities. The main concern once you leave the farmlands and hit the plains proper is water, or rather the lack of it between here and the Fubras River.

Resupplying done, you return to the inn, confident that everything will be delivered to your specifications. Guy and Luke are engaging in swordsmanship practice behind the inn when you return, Tear sitting in the shade of a large tree near them, honing the edge of her knives.

"Asch and Ion are still upstairs," she says without preamble when you approach. You nod, watching Guy and Luke for a moment, before calling your spear to hand. Assessing how much your abilities have truly been hampered by the fon slot seal seems as good a use of your time as any.

In the end, you are glad that Asch, the only real challenge of the lot, _is_ still upstairs. The seal has not only weakened your fonic artes directly, but the subtle fonic enhancements most trained fighters build over time have also been cut away. You are far enough ahead of Luke to not embarrass yourself completely, but not nearly the cut above that you should be.

By the time you're done, the remaining members of your group have come out bearing an assortment of sandwiches, and Asch casually picks Tear's brain about healing artes between them. Luke seems to actually attempt to listen, but his eyes glaze over quickly enough and he reverts to silent sandwich-eating.

Your supplies are delivered midway through the meal, and so you set about dividing them into portions that can be more easily carried. Luke, typically, complains that you don't assign Asch a pack, but as Guy is quick to point out, he's the one carrying _Ion_ when the boy gets tired, and the Fon Master weighs more than double the heaviest bag. 

(Not only that, which is certainly true, but Asch is also the most effective scout for the time being, another reason to have him travel light. And, of course, if you _do_ run into trouble, there's an advantage to having your best combatant be the least weighed-down by travelling gear. You dislike leaning on a strategy that relies on enhancing your strongest person instead of covering your weaknesses, but it's most effective now.)

"There's still enough time to make some progress before nightfall," you say once everyone has their bags sorted. "Shall we check on our friends at the gates?"

There's nods around the group, though Luke shifts his pack a bit nervously as he does so. The cheagle, ears sticking out of the top, squeaks a protest at the sudden movement.

"We're not going to fight them," Asch says, and it's strange how you can tell his matter-of-fact tone is intended to be _reassuring_. "They'd be noticed missing if we killed them, and letting them report isn't an option. We're just going to _look_."

Luke flinches a little at the mention of killing, and you think that Asch's reassurances could use some work.

The Oracle Knights on guard at the main gate are a different pair, now - the one on the western side is taller than you, which is unusual enough to be memorable. Luke's shoulders slump at the sight of them, and Asch hisses an exhale of annoyance. A pity. It seems you won't be leaving today, either.

Then Tear whispers, " _Look_ ," and you do, following her gaze further down the road. Largo's hulking shape is visible - Asch had told you as much about his survival, but still a shame that you didn't even manage to land him on bed rest - along with the outlines of several of the other God-Generals.

No, it must be all of them, you realize after a moment. Arietta the Wild is almost small enough to miss between Largo and her liger, and Sync isn't much bigger - but then, you knew that already. You do not glance at Ion, because you have more self-control than that, and do not need to eyeball him to make the inevitable comparisons.

Truthfully, there is very little _alike_ about them. Sync's carriage is utterly different, straight-backed and authoritative, and he walks with a dangerous quickness to his step. Even more so than Asch, who you had thought had already reached the peak level of _look at how dangerous I am_ possible in a teenager. His hair is chopped messily and falls over his mask, and his clothes are form-fitting in exactly the places Ion's aren't, but you can see something of a common build nonetheless.

More interesting is the fact that he is the one who goes to collect reports from the two guards at the gates, and not at all because he is on the bottom of the pecking order. If anything, the body language of most of his seniors suggests that he's on top of it.

Of course, being raised as nothing but Van's tool - unlike Asch, Sync wouldn't have a concept of an alternative way of living. He is completely trustworthy because he knows nothing else, has no other loyalties, and likely has as much trouble with self-determination as any other programmed replica. As far as you can tell, the presentation of his personality seems to manifest as "be as little like Ion as possible."

(Or at least, as little like what Ion was programmed to be. You're curious if it was a conscious choice or some instinctive rebellious resentment. Would Van have encouraged his development in such a direction...?)

The one person who does _not_ seem to accept Sync's authority as a given, one arm resting on the arm of his floating chair to form a prop for his chin, is someone you would prefer to not give any attention to. But as Legretta and Arietta do not seem to have changed much from your initial assessments of them, you suppose you must.

Saphir - Dist - looks unwell. It is not merely his physical condition - which is as poor as it ever was, though he seems to have lost what little muscle mass he _did_ have in the Imperial military. And it is not the other aspects of his appearance, which are meticulously in place - _too_ meticulously. You loathe knowing him so intimately, but you do, and Saphir always did primp most when he was under stress.

It is not even that his attempt at a disdainful posture is so clearly modelled off you in all the wrong places, overdone to the point of being ineffectual. If there is one thing that you cannot imagine changing, it is that he has never had a sense of restraint, has always thought that more is better, and the only thing more true is how he follows after you in every way. Imitation is not flattery.

It is none of those things. It is all of them, together, that shows you what he has become without anyone to keep an eye on him. What was a seed of madness before has bloomed into - dare you say it - a full, pungent rose. 

(And borne sorrowful rose hips, at that. Asch alone is surely enough for _that_ fruit, and you think Sync is probably not far behind.)

"Still no sign of them," Sync says to the group, one hand on his hip. "We can't afford to waste any more time here."

"I told you," Arietta says with quiet insistence. "My friend only smelled Anise coming through here, not Ion or any of those other people."

How puzzling. Ligers are not especially gifted scent hunters, true, but surely...

Ah. She's not looking at Sync as she says it, not making eye contact with anyone. A good enough liar to pass only if one doesn't suspect her of lying. You aren't about to turn away such a gift, however.

"And I take it the Malkuth military is still referring to her presence here as 'classified'?" Legretta asks, to which Sync only nods. 

"Damn," Largo says. "If I hadn't let the Necromancer get the better of me - "

"Then she'd be with them, and we wouldn't even have _that_ lead," Sync interrupts. "Be glad he didn't do you in, and quit trying to push yourself to make up for the mistake."

"He's right," Dist says with a slight tone of cackle. "The only one who could possibly hope to stand up to Jade at his full power is I, the gifted genius of the Six God-Generals, the - "

The others ignore him, so you figure that it is safe for you to tune it out as well. It's only more posturing, anyway.

Legretta turns to Arietta. "The girl went south?" Arietta nods. "Most likely Kaitzur, then. We can beat them there yet, if we leave tonight."

"Van is supposed to be coming through there, anyway," Sync says. "Chasing the Fabre brat. We'll have to report developments with Asch to him in person anyway."

Largo and Legretta nod, and turn to leave. Sync follows them. Dist, suddenly realizing that most of his audience is abandoning him, exclaims something about his great beauty before making his chair do a _flip_ and flying off. 

Arietta, for a moment bereft of any human company, turns to look at the gate for a moment, almost as though she knows you're there watching, before jumping onto the back of her beast and riding after the others.

"Well," you say. "That was certainly interesting."

"It _does_ fly," Guy says, sounding awed.

"I can't believe that's what you focused on," Asch mutters. 

"It'll take them a while to get the Tartarus going, and they'll leave their men here until then," Tear says. "Looks like we'll have to stay another night."

"Much as I dislike leaving Anise to fend for herself, I'm sure she'll manage," you say. 

"Why did Arietta lie, though?" Luke says. "That's the part I don't get. If she knew that Anise came here, she must have known we did, too."

"Arietta used to be one of my Guardians," Ion says quietly. "She probably did it to protect me."

Ah, yes, that would be the missing piece. "Protect you from what?" Luke asks, looking perhaps even more confused.

Ion glances at Asch, and then at you, both so subtly that it would be quite possible to miss. It's a motion of only the eyes, really. "You know that working Daathic artes is bad for my health," he says to Luke. "During the time I was off the ship, Legretta had me use one."

"Huh," Luke says. "You did look paler when you come back, but I figured that was just 'cause you were scared or something."

"Which one?" Asch asks, giving Ion a harsher look than you've seen him turn on the boy. And you thought that nothing could create tension between them - oh, well, they are only human, after all.

"Unsealing the Sephiroth at Shurrey Hill," Ion says quietly, looking at his feet.

Asch pauses, then turns away. "I'm going to check the other gates," he says, and takes off without another word.

You adjust your glasses with a sigh. _Teenagers._

"Wait, what just happened?" Guy asks. He looks after Asch for a moment, then shakes his head. "Is it really that big a deal?"

"It is for Asch," Ion says quietly. 

"Apologize to him later," Tear suggests, then sighs. "He'll be fine after he cools his head for a while. He used to do the same thing when he got frustrated with me in Grand Chokmah."

Ion just nods. "I knew he would be angry, but... I didn't know what to do. So I didn't say anything."

"If that's his reaction to you using a Daathic Arte," you say, leaving aside all the implications of what the arte had been used _for_ for a moment, "it's little wonder that Arietta thought you would be safer with him than with people who made you use them."

And you have little doubt that it _is_ Asch that Arietta is trusting with Ion's safety, and not the rest of you. You suppose, moments of temper aside, she could do far worse.

Luke frowns after his original. "Yeah, he's doing a great job protecting Ion when he runs off like that."

"Leave him be, Luke," Guy says. "Everyone needs their space sometimes, you know?"

"And Asch is rather infamous for blowing up when he doesn't get his," Tear adds, "So it's probably better this way. He has a pretty short temper sometimes."

Luke hesitates before humming in acknowledgement. "I guess. Still just seems like he isn't doing his job."

"Nobody does their job all the time either," Guy says. 

"And frequent breaks are especially important in high-stress situations," you cut in. "Which is certainly the case for Asch. Now, are we all going to stand around here until nightfall, or are we going to go back to the inn, so that once he has a cooler head, he can actually _find_ us?"

At least this time, they let you herd them without too much trouble. Annoying as it is to babysit, standing around speculating on Asch's emotional state is perhaps worse.

\----

Asch returns shortly before nightfall. Not long after he does, Tear takes Luke and Guy out to see the last few shops that still have their doors open, no doubt to give her two temporary roommates some privacy. You take advantage of the quiet to eat a peaceful dinner, free of teenage drama, and spend a few hours turning your attention to the seal still clogging your fon slots.

(You think it is a good thing, that Ion's first experience with angering someone whose opinions he cares for is so easily resolved. Asch may be temperamental, but he is setting a good precedent, relatively speaking. It will not do Ion any good to be afraid to make mistakes, especially regarding the emotions of others.)

(You think it is a good thing, too, that Asch gets practice in forgiving someone.)

Once you are sure that the Fon Master and his unofficial guardian are not going to come to blows, even verbal ones, you allow yourself to drop off to sleep. An early night means an earlier, better-rested rise, and you figure you had best send out a final report in the morning before you leave, before the others are awake.

When you return to the inn in the morning, though, Asch is already in the hallway, waiting. He eyes you with renewed suspicion, something largely missing from his expression over the last few days.

Ah, of course. He did just have a bump in the road with the person he trusts most, after all. Renewed suspicion towards everyone is only to be expected.

"Merely reassuring His Majesty that I haven't died yet," you say. And then, because it still won't do to have him on balance all the time - "I assume that you will accompany us at least as far as Kaitzur, but do you intend to go all the way to Baticul?"

It has the desired effect. Asch hesitates, his eyes briefly going wide, his gaze bouncing around for a moment as though searching the walls for some answer. "...Probably not," he says finally.

You nod. It is no more or less than you expected. If nothing else, it will probably go better for whatever deception he and Ion had planned for Van if he does not appear too eager to return home. "And what of Luke?" you figure you may as well ask.

That gets a sigh. "He told Ion he wants to give Uncle a chance, and that should be okay. When they send him to Akzeriuth, we can throw things off track there."

"Assuming they don't send him with a full armed guard," you say. 

Asch shrugs. "I can take care of a full armed guard. Not that Luke will like it."

You simply nod. You expected no less, would have replied no differently to the question yourself. "And Luke himself?"

"If it comes down to it," Asch says. 

"It would probably be simpler," you say.

You're testing him, and it's clear from the way his eyes narrow that he knows it. Then, without answering, he turns away from you and goes back into the room he shares with Tear and Ion.

It is answer enough. 

\----

It takes no time at all to get everyone out of the city once they're all awake, and you are forced to accept that the low level of teenager chatter is going to be a part of this journey no matter what you do. Luke enjoys the first sight of the great plains, running on ahead of the group with his arms thrown wide, but by the third hour he's back to his usual degree of complaining.

A merchant you pass on the road informs you that the bridge from Akzeriuth is out, which sparks half an hour of hot discussion once he's out of hearing. Asch is solidly of the opinion that it was intentional, Oracle Knight sabotage to prevent Malkuth from posting a military force there in response to information about the Score, which you're inclined to agree with. It would make the Kimlascan job easier in any case, but especially now, when they're dealing with the breach of security that Asch represents...

Yes, sabotage is incredibly likely. They would be foolish to not prepare the site. And if they're doing it now, it doesn't appear that they're going to let Luke slack in his duty to his country. If anything, you half expect to be sent there as soon as you cross the border.

Kimlasca will take no chances. You allow yourself to walk on autopilot once the discussion has died down, and focus your efforts on breaking through the fon slot seal. You get the feeling that you're going to need the power locked under it sooner rather than later.

It's a safe enough policy, even with the handful of weak monsters about on the plains; those mostly tend to give you something to focus artes on as you experiment to get them _working_ again. Asch, similarly frustrated by the inability to do anything at the moment but _walk_ , has taken to correcting his replica's bladework now and again. The nervous energy would be obnoxious if he weren’t at least making a passing attempt to be productive with it.

You camp on the shore of the river for the night, tucked against the stone structures that once held the dirt back against flood waters, however many centuries ago. Luke, who has so helpfully insisted on contributing to the group, seems to regret his decision when you assign him a watch between Tear and Guy.

Shortly after you cross the next morning, there is an earthquake that brings miasma welling up from the ground. Tear's quick hymn protects you until the ground settles, though there isn't much need - save perhaps for Ion, none of the group should be at all affected by the mild exposure to the toxin. Still, it is a fine chance to pry more information on Tear's abilities out of her. Yulia's own hymns... An unusual claim, to be sure, but you're not prepared to dismiss it without evidence. Not after seeing Asch's hyperresonance.

Late afternoon finds you within sight of the border outpost. Unlike Chesedonia or Akzeriuth, the border is clearly marked here, where tensions have been the highest since the Hod War. A fence stretched off towards the horizon on either side, with alternating patrols from the two armies.

Fortunately, there is no sign of Oracle Knight presence, aside from the pair travelling with you. Neither Anise nor Van is immediately visible as you enter the settlement. You stop at the edge of the border town, looking at Asch and Ion. The rest of the group slows to a stop around you.

"Now that we've safely arrived," you say, "I'd like to be informed of our excuses, just in case."

Asch scowls. "Some of the details depend on what Van is willing to claim as far as responsibility. Stick with the story that I left out of loyalty to Ion, and didn't tell you much of anything."

"Kind of hard to avoid questions about you and Luke," Guy says, glancing between the two. They look even more alike now, with Asch's hair a bit more disarrayed and his skin starting to darken from travel. 

Asch snorts. "The 'official' story is that Father stepped out, and I'm 'Luke's' senior by a couple of months. No reason to change it now."

You smile, shrugging your hands. "And of course, I suspect anyway, but can't prove anything one way or the other, so I've kept my thoughts to myself."

"Do you keep _any_ thoughts to yourself?" Luke asks.

"Certainly. Why, if I said everything that came into my head the way you do, everyone would surely despise me," you reply.

"Remember to be careful around Anise as well," Ion says. "All she knows is that Asch and Luke look alike, and that Asch is more loyal to me than to the rest of the Order."

"This is still going to take a miracle," Guy mutters. Asch smirks at him.

"Van trusts you. Hope you're willing to do some legwork."

The blond simply groans in reply. Tear, keeping watch in the direction of the settlement, says, "Here comes Anise now. Guy, move to the left, she's going to come straight at - "

Guy doesn't need to be told twice, which is fortunate, as Anise very nearly barrels into him in the process of charging her wayward charge. He balances awkwardly on one leg for a moment, frozen, before Asch gently tips him back onto proper footing.

"Ion!" she cries, practically pulling the poor boy's arm off. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Anise," Ion protests. "Just a bit tired."

"You didn't push yourself, did you?" Anise looks Ion over like a fretting mother, before rounding on Asch. "You didn't let him walk the whole way, did you? He's delicate!"

Asch gives her a look that is very, very tired. "I was _carrying_ him half that distance, Sergeant. Settle down."

Anise beams and attempts to hug _Asch_ around the waist, an attempt he deftly sidesteps, leaving her to flail her arms in a windmill for a moment before she can catch herself by locking them around Luke instead. "And Luke! What about you? Did anyone try to hold you for ransom?"

"Uh, no. I'm fine, Anise." It's painfully clear that the boy has even less idea how to handle her than Ion does.

"At least her priorities are in order," Tear mutters.

Luke attempts, to no avail, to pry Anise off, while she looks back and forth between him and Asch. Finally, she lets go, turning back to Asch. "Wow, you guys look even more alike up close. I thought it was kind of crazy, but..."

"I hadn't noticed," Asch replies, tone clipped.

"He hasn't looked in a mirror in years, you see," you contribute helpfully.

"No, that's Luke," Tear adds, almost surprisingly. She usually tries to stay out of such antics, you've noticed, unless it's to break them up. "Just look at his hair."

You make a show of looking at the messy bangs over Luke's fuming expression, and nod sagely. "My mistake. You're quite right, Tear."

"I can't believe you were holding out on me!" Anise exclaims, locking a look of betrayal on Asch. "Seriously, how big of a portion do you get? Even if it's a little smaller, I'll definitely take the mature one over that pain in the ass!"

"I'm still here, guys," Luke says.

Asch is silent a moment, then coughs into his hand and looks away. "I'm not in a position to inherit _anything_."

"What - oh," she says, and glances at Luke before looking apologetic. "I'm sorry. That kind of sucks."

Asch shrugs, not looking at her or at Luke. "It's how it is," he says simply.

"Maybe you guys can switch places for a while," she says, brightening back up, "And you can make off with some of the money that way!"

Oh dear, and you had thought the silence was loud before. You adjust your glasses, watching with some amusement as everyone seems to frantically reach for another subject as quickly as possible.

"A-anyway, this is Guy!" Luke says in a moment of surprisingly swift thinking, clapping the aforementioned blond on the shoulder. "He's my best friend, so don't be weird at him."

"I wouldn't _dream_ of it," Anise says solemnly. She even puts a hand over her heart. It's endearing how she quite clearly intends nothing of the sort.

Even Luke, with his poor ability to read people's motives, eyes her performance suspiciously. You think she might be good for him. A learning experience.

"It looks like the border crossing is shut down for the night," Ion says. "Even if it wasn't, I think Anise is the only one with enough energy to stay on her feet. Shall we head for the inn?"

"Please," Tear says, and certainly no one objects.

Given that no one at the inn seems to recognize Anise, and how she throws herself at the bed with nearly as much relish as Luke, you imagine she's been conserving her coin by sleeping on the ground. Fool girl, there is such a thing as needless thriftiness.

\----

The next morning is much the same as the ones in Saint Binah, save for the boisterous addition, who seems intent on taking a piece out of Asch's dignity. Perhaps it's because he hasn't actually done anything to deserve having a piece taken out of his hide. Young love is so troublesome.

"For the last time, _Sergeant_ ," Asch is saying over toast, wielding Anise's rank like a weapon, "The Fon Master and I have a professional relationship only."

"Uh huh," Anise says, clearly not believing him, as she loads her own toast with strawberry jam bought with his gald. "Right. Which is why you were clinging to him in your sleep like a baby - hey!"

Asch, apparently fed up with trying to shut her up using words, whacks her on the back of the hand with a butter knife, leaving a sticky smear across the white. Anise glares at him while Luke snickers and Tear rolls her eyes, and attempts to lick the back of her glove clean when she thinks no one is watching.

"Table manners, Anise," you say, because you are, in fact, always watching.

Still, thus far, things are going well. Almost too well. So, of course, midway into breakfast, Guy comes rushing back from his position at the window, with a loud exclamation of, "Van incoming!"

The way everyone at the table freezes would be comedic if the situation were not so serious, especially when Anise glances around in confusion. "Commandant Grants?" she asks.

"You're going to get jam in your hair," Tear says to Asch, stopping his hand at the wrist as he goes to run his fingers through his bangs. "Take a breath."

Luke just looks paralyzed for a moment, until Ion nudges him with an elbow. He takes a short breath himself, then stands and turns for the door as his teacher comes in. "Master Van!" he says loudly, appearing to radiate sunlight at the man's arrival. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be in Daath looking for Ion!"

"Luke," Van says, and the tone is warm and paternal and makes Asch look like he's going to return his breakfast to the table. "It's good to see you well. Your parents asked me to help search for you, given the circumstances. And I see that fortune has brought you into contact with the Fon Master as well, so no time wasted."

Ion is nothing but empty smiles and a nod of his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that leaving so suddenly would create such difficulty for you."

"I'm simply relieved to see you unharmed," Van says in return, glancing at the table. Asch has his eyes closed and his face turned away, trying to get whatever remaining calm he can. "Though I suppose you had more than enough protection, if you took Asch with you."

Anise pouts at her toast, no doubt displeased at having her contributions to Ion's safety ignored. Asch turns at the waist, leaning one arm over the back of his chair. "I didn't intend to join up with the Fon Master or any of the rest of them," he says, tone cool and formal, flavored with disdain. He goes the extra mile and shoots a glare at Luke to really drive the point at home. "But circumstances required it."

"Oh?" Van's look of curiosity, at least, is probably not entirely feigned. "The last report I got from Daath, I heard that you had volunteered to help with the search."

Asch nods. "I did. That's where things start to get strange. Mohs assigned the whole group of us, aside from Cantabile, to move together and search northern Rugnica. When we found Ion, I was _given the impression_ that he'd been kidnapped by Malkuth forces, and we assaulted the dreadnaught Tartarus.

"Obviously, that was not the case. When I found out that we had in fact led an assault on a ship on a mission of _peace_ , I aided the group in escaping and took up temporary Guardian position until we were able to relocate Sergeant Tatlin, who escaped in the initial assault. We arrived in Kaitzur last night."

Van nods, looking troubled. "And the other God-Generals?"

"Last seen still in possession of the Tartarus, and headed in this direction across the Rugnica plains," you say, reaching up to refocus your glasses. "We were fortunate enough to avoid them on our journey south."

"What's going on with that, anyway?" Luke asks. "I thought the God-Generals answered to you, Master."

"On a purely technical level," Van answers. "In truth, they're with the Grand Maestro's faction, and have been taking orders under the table from Mohs for some time." He fixes his other student with a stern look. "Much as you've been taking orders from Ion, Asch. Don't think that it's escaped me."

"I don't think I need to tell you that Mohs attempting to strong-arm the Fon Master with military force is unacceptable," Asch replies. "You know where my loyalties lie, Van."

A careful manipulation of the truth, for the sake of both their public images. In the end, pinning the whole thing on Mohs allows both sides plausible deniability. Another game that you would enjoy more, if there wasn't so much hanging in the balance.

"Indeed," Van says, looking at Asch thoughtfully. "You've always been quite honest." He glances around the group, before his gaze finally settles on his silent sister. "And what of you, Tear?"

"I'm with Asch," she says simply. "Both sides have valid points, but using such intimidation and manipulation tactics on the Fon Master himself..." She pulls off the tone of an idealist who has just realized that things aren't black and white quite well, perhaps because she is. "It's disgusting."

"I see," Van says. "And the other matter?"

"It has to do with our homeland," Tear says blandly, "so I'd prefer to discuss it at a later date."

"Of course," Van says, and you realize, quite suddenly, that you have no idea where _either_ of them comes from. How odd. Van's accent passes for Daathic easily enough, and both sound more likely to be native to the place than Asch, who still bears some of the obvious Kimlascan roughness and drawl, but...

Well, you noticed it before anyone realized you hadn't noticed. That will have to do. You recall your words to Guy on the matter of Daathic conspiracies, and add at least one more to your mental list.

"Why don't we finish breakfast," you say into the brief silence, "and discuss the rest on the road? I, for one, am eager to get across the border."

There's muffled sounds of agreement from the rest of the table, and no one is foolish enough to object to Van having a bit of toast.

\----

You are suspiciously fortunate that Van carries enough passports for all of you - well, nearly. Asch, cunningly enough, carries his own set of papers about him seemingly at all times, and has no need of the additional assistance at the border crossing. A benefit to being such a high ranking member of the Oracle Knights, no doubt.

Throughout the journey to the port on the southern coast, Van discreetly corners both of the redheads and Guy, no doubt prying the more individual versions of the tale from them. It's unfortunate for him that things were planned out on that front beforehand; even Luke seems to understand the value in not contradicting the others, though you overhear him commenting to Van that Asch is "really creepy," and "kind of a jerk, you know?"

A bit of honesty to color the lies, no doubt. Asch probably adds similar nuggets of venting about his replica to his reports to Van, and you notice that the little corrections he made to Luke's swordsmanship have stopped.

Not that there's particularly much for Luke to do with the few monsters you do encounter on the brief journey, with how quickly the combination of Asch and Van dispatches them, but it's the little things that are worth noticing. Van comments on Luke's improvement, buying his trust with praise, but you can tell the difference in intent almost transparently - 

Van wants Luke to love him, and feeds him just the right cocktail of praise and scolding to get the boy to feel like he's being taken seriously. Asch is sparing with praise, quick with his corrections, and seems to genuinely want to see Luke improve.

You are fearful at first of Luke falling back under the man's influence and spilling everything, but Ion sticks to his fellow replica like glue, and you doubt he'll let anything of the sort happen. The only place he doesn't accompany Luke is when Luke is dragged to a formal dinner with the Kimlascan noble in charge of the port, but none of the rest of you are able to attend it, either. 

(You catch Asch looking almost longingly in that direction, though, and can't help but think that Anise's inadvertently apt suggestion of switching them may actually have been a good idea. Unfortunately, at this point there's too much about each others' lives that they don't know to pull it off.)

(That, and while Luke may have adjusted to the reality of having killed someone, he is in absolutely no state to take over Asch's well-earned bloody moniker.)

Van has taken his own room, and seems to be of the impression that Asch would prefer that to the one crowded with Ion, Tear, and Anise, but the redhead seems to be doing his very best to avoid that. For now, he sits in the common room between Ion and Tear, allowing them to keep watch so that he can relax as much as he ever does.

"We'll part ways at Chesedonia," he says, when he realizes that you're there. "Van will be expecting me to get away from Luke at the first chance I get, and I can't go to Baticul anyway."

You nod. "And after?"

"I'll arrange something," he says. "If you can, try to get back to Chesedonia by crossing the desert, instead of by ship. It'll be easiest to have Luke disappear out there."

Lost in the desert, never to be found. Or at least, to hide until the year is out, peace is restored, and the Score is blown safely off course. You drop your hands into your pockets. No doubt it won't be nearly so easy, in reality. "Do you have a place in mind?"

"The Zao Ruins," he replies. "The central oasis is too obvious, but there's tunnels there that should lead all the way under the mountains to the sea."

You raise your eyebrows, just slightly. "I would have thought any such tunnels would be collapsed by now."

And for a moment, just for a _breath_ , there's a flicker of gold around Asch, a tingle to the fonons to the air. He just shrugs. "It'll be good practice. For Luke, too."

Tear sighs. "I'm going with you. The two of you will blow each other up within a week if you're left alone."

"Just be careful," Ion says. "There's a Sephiroth buried deep in those ruins. It's no miner's city, but..."

The air of amusement around Asch vanishes, and he nods seriously. "We'll be careful."

Hidden from Tear, Ion hesitates a moment, before reaching out his hand and threading his fingers through Asch's, squeezing. "I know you will," he tells the redhead, who looks as startled by the action as Ion himself. "But I worry anyway."

It is sickeningly sweet. You turn away and walk back to your room, frowning. Of course, no matter how much they might plan, it will never be that easy. Mohs won't stop trying for war just because both Lukes are out of view, and you're sure Asch and Ion are both aware of that. 

They don't need a cynical old man like you to remind them what could happen. Let them be children a while longer, before they go to war.


End file.
